Page 84 of Will Bark for Pizza
“Of course you fucking did,” Luke said, sounding exasperated. “You all right?”
“I'm fine.”
“Karl find you?” Luke asked Beckett, moving on the second he confirmed I wasn’t injured.
Beckett secured Husker’s leash, wrapping the handle around his wrist. But not before my dog had a chance to rub his wet fur all over Luke’s jeans.Good boy, Husker.
“Yeah, I just talked to him.”
Luke nodded at Beckett, a silent exchange happening between them. One that renewed my earlier anger, reminding me that my oldest brother had prior knowledge of this but didn’t think to mention it tome.
I resisted the urge to chew him a new asshole—or pushhiminto the lake—and held out my hand to Beckett for the leash. It was best I head out before I had any more time to think about that kiss that had most definitely left me breathless. So fucking breathless.
“C’mon, Husker. Let’s get home so we can dry off.”
“Heading back to Omaha, then?” Luke asked, his tone smug as I retrieved my flip-flops from the boat dock.
“Maybe I will move back here,” I said to Luke, poking a finger into his chest. “Just to spiteyou.”
That shut my brother up.
Beckett shot me a smile, warming me in an instant. Yeah, it was definitely time to go. “Thanks for helping us out,” I said to him, unable to meet his gaze as I hurried back to my Jeep.
TWENTY-FIVE
BECKETT
“That the bookstore?”Nana asked, nodding out the passenger window as we drove through town.
“Yeah,” I said through a yawn, fighting the exhaustion that resonated in my bones. My own damn fault forkissingKira last night and expecting I could get a fucking ounce of sleep before I had to head to Denver this morning to pick up Nana.
“It’s not open.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Funny thing about going-out-of-business sales. You have to be open to sell things.”
“Joe doesn’t have the staff.”
“What’s Joe doing?”
“Running the hardware store.”
I slowed to take the turn past the bank, and headed toward the farm. When I told Connie where I was headed this morning, she sent me off with a to-go cup of coffee, abreakfast sandwich, and a request to bring Nana there for a family meal.
“What’s he doing with a bookstore?”
“It belonged to his late wife.”
“Brenda.” Not a question. An easy observation.
“It’s been a staple in this town for thirty years.”
“Who’s the redhead?” Nana asked as I turned off pavement and onto a dirt road.
“Kira Mason. She’s Luke and Connor’s younger sister. You’ll meet her soon.” Unless she went into hiding—or ran back to Omaha since I left this morning—there was a good chance that meeting was about to take place.
“Brenda’s daughter?”
